Memory of a Memory
by ALittleGirlLost
Summary: Admit it, you're in love with me." Maybe she had been at a time, but could she be again? Years after the apocalyptic events of Ooo and Aaa, the kingdoms are ready to be united. The only problem is that their soon-to-be bride has been MIA for the last 1K years, and refuses to do anything with fiancee, Marshall Lee. Can he win her back in time or will she find a new prince Charming?
1. Chapter 1

The Light-O-Sphere was to say the least: busy. Or rather full. Every where you looked there were ghouls and girls, boys and beasts, all dancing or drinking or _trying _to do both. It looked quite disturbing to anyone who wasn't intoxicating, which was only a small handful of people.

Up above strobe lights flickered, on and off, red to blue to yellow to green, all in an out-of-order gamut. Surprisingly, hardly any drinks were spilled over the lack of sight but more to the lack of sense. Marceline had been there for only a couple minutes and already she had dodged two Bloody Mary's (shaken, not stirred) and a curious cat. His paws were not welcome.

Performing on stage was a rowdy band called the Raging Rebels, one that Marceline and her band had played against on several occasions. Despite their unspoken rivalry, she had to admit they were pretty good. Of course their drummer couldn't even be compared to hers but even then, they're lead vocalist definitely made up for it. Thinking about it more deeply, Marceline couldn't recall seeing_ him_ before. The Rebel's last lead singer was named Xander, a six foot two vamp with skin even paler than hers and chords that rang like a bell, a manly bell that is. He was the rough and rougher chic magnet- (Marceline wondered if he was part warlock with all the wenches he attracted) who was brutal with breakups. But this singer was different. He sang with such emotion, conveyed such feelings of sympathy and understanding. Marceline hated him. No, the correct term- as PB would remind her- would be envy.

There was a time when Marceline could sing like that, so straight from the heart. But after her horrible last two break ups (and yes Xander had been one of them) there was little of Marceline to put into the songs. Oh she wrote and wrote but they were just words, just a bunch of rhyming _words,_ not a musical melody.

Was it just her imagination or was he looking right at her? Self-consciously, she hid behind her hair, hoping her pointy ears didn't show behind her curtain of raven locks. Still, whenever she glanced up from her drink she caught him staring at her. Once, she swore he winked. And just like that, her cheeks were on fire.

The song was starting to wrap up and Marceline could feel the stranger's gaze burning away at her. She had to leave. Quickly, she made her way to the door, her eyes lowered in an attempt to be undetected. She had almost made it to Fredrik, the friendly bouncer who was checking for ID's when she heard someone shouting behind her.

"Wait!"

It was as though her legs refused to move. Again she tried but they wouldn't budge. What the glob was wrong with them? After what felt like an eternity, she finally made it to the door just to have it shut (nicely) in her face. Freedom was gone. Marceline looked up at Fred, expecting some kind of an explanation but he simply shrugged and gestured to a dark figure behind her. Turning around, Marceline recognized him. He was the mysterious lead singer. Xander's replacement.

"Sorry, didn't mean to catch you off guard," he apologized. Pfft, as if. "I just wanted to talk to you before you left." He paused before adding, "You started to walk away before I could reach you." The stranger offered a smile, flashing his fangs. Then he turned to Fredrik and nodded, giving him a silent thank you.

"Well, we talked, now I should go," Marceline replied, her eyes trailing to the door. She started walking towards it, ignoring the boy until a hand reached out and grabbed her wrist lightly. Her first instinct was to pull away, which is exactly what she did. Immediately, the hand let go and dropped back to his side, but he called for her again.

"Wait…Marcy." She froze, then turned.

"H-how do you know my name?" She hadn't meant to stammer but it just came out that way. Her dark eyes were wide, her lips slightly parted. A part of her read 'surprised' and 'curious' while the other exclaimed 'don't get too close' and 'caution'.

Seconds ticked by, her eyebrows arching higher. "You're in that band, right?" He stopped to think before smiling. "Slumbering Sirens." Slowly, her head nodded. "I heard you guys play once a while back. I just wanted to say I think you guys are alright.

Marcy felt herself relax slightly. "Thanks," she said, "Although I'd say we're more than alright," she bragged. "We could totally beat you."

"And so you have," he chuckled. She liked the sound of it; it was warm and inviting, not hollow. "But then again you haven't gone against me." She put on a coy smile, rolled her eyes and then countered with, "Anytime, anyplace."

"Careful," Stranger purred. "I'll keep you to that."

"Marceline Abadeer is a woman of her word."

The Stanger's eyes lit, amused. He opened his mouth to say something just as a crowd of people started to push past, taking him with them.

"Wait, what's _your_ name?" Marceline had to yell with all the chaos. "What?"

"Marshall. Marshall Lee."


	2. Chapter 2

Marshall Lee. Immediately her face froze with an expression of realization, and then with horror. "It's you", she mouthed. Her dark eyes widened and her hands started trembling at her side. She backed away until she was near the door, and then she flew away.

Marceline had never been one for rollercoasters. She liked the speed but the loops made her nauseous. But right now she felt like there was a herd of cattle inside of her so she barely felt it when she flipped in the air or jerked from one direction to the next. From down below it must have looked like a bird was having a seizure or something. Right now she felt like a puppet on strings.

How could she not see? It was _him_. Him of all people. That stupid flannel wearing, dark skinny jeans loving, guitar playing, poser. He even looked the same, and she couldn't forget his voice. Maybe it was some mind mechanism, a way of self-preservation. And honestly, could you blame her? She had been hurt by him before, what would make this time different. But for him to bloody well show up in her territory?! Well he'd have heck to pay for it.

* * *

><p>"Man, Marshall, lighten up," Leroy jeered. "You deserve to relax." Marshall shrugged him off as he tried to make his way outside. It was almost sunrise and most people had left already. He had planned on running after Marcy, but there had been so many people hovering and asking for autographs, he couldn't make it five feet. Now there were only him and his band and a couple of girls but he was far too drunk to hold a good conversation.<p>

He knew she was angry at him, pissed off for sure but he had to see her. What he needed was far more important than him or her (although in his eyes she was the most important thing in the world). How could he get her to talk to him?

* * *

><p>"Wow, sounds like quite a night," remarked Princess Bubblegum after hearing Marceline recount the entire story, in full detail, too. Her eyes were bloodshot and she was starting to get bags but sleep was for the weak; she had a mission on her mind. During the entire story, she had been mixing liquids and pouring and documenting, but Marcy didn't say anything because if anyone could multi-task, it was PB.<p>

Marcy swung her legs underneath her as she continued to float. "That's not even the worst part," she groaned. PB raised an eyebrow, beckoning her to continue. "I liked him. Like I saw him and…" she gulped. "_flirted_ with him." Bonnibel didn't laugh; she just nodded while she took it all in. "What should I do? I can't avoid him forever." Although that did sound nice enough.

PB put down her tools, her hands on her hips and her head tilted to the side. "Well I suppose it depends. What did he do?"

* * *

><p><em>FLASHBACK<em>

"_Marshy, wait come back!" Marceline's short little legs could only carry her so far before- plop. Her bum found the ground and she had to get up and brush herself off. Immediately nurses came to help pick her up but they were dismissed by the King. Instead, Marshall Lee ran up to her, picked her up and threw her in the air, catching her at the last possible second. Then he plopped her down, letting her play with his Hambo toy._

"_It appears they make quite a team," remarked the Demon Queen. She had her arms folded across her chest, an amused look on her face. _

_In contrast, the Lord of Evil bristled. "Don't get any ideas now, Hannah. My Marceline is still young." He watched as she giggled below them, her raven hair blowing in the subtle breeze; Marshall tickling her. She would have years, but she would only be a child for so long. _

"_Of course you need time," Hannah interrupted. She had her mind somewhere else, babbling on about details of-_

"_A wedding?!" Hunson roared. After Hannah shot him a look, he lowered his voice. "I told you not to get any ideas." He rubbed the back of his neck, nervously. "She's too young…too young," he murmured. _

_Hannah waved him off. "Nonsense, my own Marshall Lee is only five years older than she." She continued to talk about details, not acknowledging him again. Distractedly, she ran after one of the servants, asking which would be better, crimson and canary yellow, or scarlet and sapphire._

"_Huh? Scarlet and sapphire," LoE muttered. His Princess looked beautiful no matter what she wore but he always liked her in scarlet, it brought out her complexion better than any color, and besides, who looked good in yellow? Certainly not this father of the too-soon-to-be-wed bride. _

_Marceline, oblivious of all the commotion continued to play with Hambo, rubbing his silky soft fur against her face as she snuggled with Marshall Lee. He played with her hair, running his hands through the ebony mess. "You ever brush your hair, kid?" She shook her head as he rolled his eyes teasingly. One of her warm hands reached for his cold ones as she held onto it, using it as a pillow. _

"_Marsh?"_

"_Yeah, kid?"_

"_Sing for me?"_

_And so he did, his voice soft like silk and yet as clear as glass. He rocked her in his lap, soothing her to sleep. _

_When I wake beside you_

_I feel like I shine_

_I wish you forever_

_And ever be mine_

_A new day tomorrow_

_When you open your eyes_

_You let in the sunshine_

_And all darkness dies_

* * *

><p>"Marshall Lee, where is he?" Pacing, Hannah screamed in frustration. "That no good boy…" she huffed. From behind her came a figure, older and grayer than he used to be. Politely, he muttered, "Your majesty?"<p>

Hannah turned to see him and exhaled quietly. "Thank goodness you're here." She held out a hand to him, politely as he walked toward her and kissed it. "Is there any news?" Sadly, LoE shook his head. "That blasted boy and his notions. How will he ever rule?"

LoE opened his mouth to say something. "It's that silly girl of yours." He frowned, his eyes narrowing. "She's cast some spell on him or what not." Marceline did have that effect on people, but Hunson wanted to argue that Marshall was responsible for his own actions.

"Where does she think she's going, anywho? She's got her head in those clouds, again." Hannah sighed, her eyes closing as she worried.

"And whose fault is that?" She looked up at him, her yellow eyes glowing.

"Pardon?"

"It's your boy's fault," he continued. "If he hadn't gone and—" he broke off. He had not come here to start a quarrel. "They'll be back soon."

She lowered her gaze and nodded. "I suppose they will. But if they don't-"

"-They will." _Oh, Marceline, where are you?_ Hunson wondered.


End file.
